*WARNING* Offensive language and suggestive themes
Beginning *Justin*
This is my beginning. Where this whole thing starts, in this Mercedes Benz. With my iPod headphones jammed into my ears and the music playing so loud that it seems to consume me.
What could possibly begin here? It seems to be an average scene, a teenager tuning out his annoying babbling sister with music that was playing much too loud for their own health. But how many teenagers do you know are dumped into someone else’s arms? All because their parents of dealing with such a ‘disappointment’.
My bag was banging around in the trunk, and in held all my clothes, and all my most prized dirty magazines. Besides that, I had the shoes on my feet and the clothes on my back, heading straight for sure-fired hell. ‘Hell’ being out in the middle of nowhere. There was nothing but corn fields and grazing cattle where I was headed.
Now see, despite leaving everything I know behind me I can’t help but this situation a bit amusing. My father is literally the biggest d**k you will ever meet. The head of a major banking office he makes bank. My mother – oh god, she’s one of those that can’t stand to touch sinks in a public restroom, or hates the thought of having to live in a house that someone else has lived in. And of course, I couldn’t forget my sister Lilly. Not because I didn’t want to, but because it simply cannot be done. She’s literally my mother's clone, perfect in every way, and has become quite accustomed to having daddy’s money in easy access.
‘Daddy’ doesn’t ask much of us kids. Besides the expected…
“Get flawless grades.”
“Damn you Justin, I said get out there and play!”
“You had better get that math grade up Lilly or I’ll suspend your account.”
Yeah, you know, normal parent stuff. (Can you even call that normal?)
And I do apologize, but I suppose you should know whose story this is. I am Justin, formally known as Cole around school – a school I will no longer be attending. See, I lived what you could call a double life.
At home Justin was the name, playing ‘perfect’ was the game. After all it was expected of me, no more, but certainly no less than perfection. And the fact that perfection was not obtainable by humans did not enter my father’s mind; he always viewed as ‘we weren’t trying hard enough’. Slipping on one test shouldn’t be called a ‘failure’ but a simple ‘mistake’. In my father’s eyes it was a failure and with that, came serious consequences.
However at school, all of that disappeared and was replaced with a different kind of pressure. Being the star quarterback of the football team I was pretty well known. There, in that institution where learning was not an option, it was a expectation, I was known as ‘Cole’. The boy that everyone wanted, but no one could have. Spotless grades, and a reputation for being the hottest boy in school I got a lot of attention and I did my best to ignore it.
We pulled into a parking lot which seemed to be misplaced. After all it was out in the middle of farm lands. I wondered idly as we rolled to a stop if it was put here just for this very reason.
To pick kids up and tow them off to a prison-like boarding school.
Moon Mountain Academy was an all boy’s boarding school, focusing on ‘mentally disturbed’ teens. And, much to dear-old-dad’s dismay he had found out that I did in fact have a severe depression problem. I actually tried to off myself, just because I was so sick of the pressure of life, of society.
I climbed out of the back seat and earned some stares from the rest of the boys that stood and waited by their cars. Some had brought girls along with them, girlfriends wishing them luck?
As if luck could save them now.
Dad popped the truck and shoved my bag against my chest.
“You listen here boy, just because I’m not there doesn’t give you the right to d**k around. I’m payin’ damn good money for you to attend this crack pot school and I’m not going to stand for throwing my hard earning money away.”
“Gee dad, I would have thought after seventeen years that you would have learned that I have a name.”
He dropped my bag on the dusty road and turned his back on me. Lilly, dressed in a short skirt, tank top, Prada heals and with her white framed Gucci sunglasses resting on top of her head she leaning against ‘Daddy’s’ Mercedes and again, earned some stares.
While we waited I surveyed the boys I’d soon be attending school with. Most of them looked like freaks, but at the end, there was one who met my green eyes with electric blue.
He was tall, built, and at least a year older than me. Pale blond hair fell to frame his face, as he gazed at me with gentle eyes. We stared at each other for awhile, locked in each other’s gazes.
But he looked away as a gray, dinged, and dented mini bus pulled up in front of us. The doors were opened and everyone stood up a little straighter.
He was big, blurry, and had eyes that could freeze the blood that pounded through your veins. I would soon know this man to be Philip, and of course, just like any other gentleman that resumed the ‘alpha male’ position, we did not get along. He reminded me too much of my father.
“Alright gentlemen, drop your bags.” He said in a husky voice, definitely intimidating.
Everyone did so, but I waited a moment, testing the waters.
He looked over at me, grinned and came to stand in front of me.
“Hey, new kid, maybe you didn’t hear me right the first time,” He leaned in good at close, “Drop your ********’ bag!”
He yelled, good a loud, his breath stunk too, like cigarettes and cheap beer.
With a grin spread across my face I dropped my bag.
“Oh we’re gonna get along just fine.” He whispered, reflecting my grin back at me.
One by one, he searched our bags.
My first semester in hell had officially began.
